Russia's Haze
by XxJellyBeanSkullsxX
Summary: Russia sits alone and recalls the ealier days of his existance


Ivan came home after a long day of hearing England and America argue. France chimed in once and a while to make a sarcastic remark while China tried to get the business they had the meeting for completed.

Pampered Idiots, all of them.

No one seemed to be home, which wasn't surprising to him. Belarus was with one of the Baltics for the day or something. He didn't really care as long as she wasn't here. He walked through his house and turned on the stereo he was able to get. He liked music, despite what other countries may think. He smiled, seeing that Estonia fallowed his orders and replaced the old sunflowers with fresh ones. Only he really knew why sunflowers were so important. He took out several vodka bottles he kept before sitting at his table, listening to the music while reflecting. Piano played and a woman sang.

"_Bring two prix fixe dinners up_

_I'll unwrap the plastic cups_…"

He noticed it was June 12th tomorrow. The day was supposed to be known as his Independence Day, but many Russians, who no doubt enjoy federal days off, perceived the word "independence" as an offensive joke because to be independent he liberated himself from territories that had actually been parts of Russia for many years.

"_It's just us my love_

_it's just us my love…"_

At least when he separated from Nazi Germany he got rid of one crazy boss. He'd have to start setting the military for the parade and prepare the gifts of the families who had babies born on the Independence Day this year. Ivan sighed, finally opening a bottle of vodka and taking a swing.

"_I will make the room up nice_

_put your insides all on ice…"_

He remembered the Russian Empire. Not many people to remember it and Poland will deny it whenever possible. But he did have an empire. The only time before the Soviet Union that he ever got close to making everyone be one with him.

"_It was real true love_

_it was real true love…"_

He thought of Yaroslav the Wise, who was his boss when he was barely a country at all. Yaroslav codified laws, made shrewd alliances with other states, encouraged the arts, and all the other sorts of things that wise kings do. He was wise, but left Russia –Keivan Rus' as he was known as back then- in a foolish state. He had divided Russia among his children, trusting them to be just as wise. Nothing of the sort occurred.

"_Close all the windows _

_put signs on the handles _

_and strip down to my dun-dun-duns…"_

He found that the bottle he had open was now empty. He set it aside and opened another. He was so young back then. He had been pulled every which way with Yaroslav gone. To make it worse the Kipchaks- or Cumans as he remembered- invaded. But at least around this time Prince Yuri Dolgorukiy held a feast. This was where the earliest mention of Moscow was recorded. It started as a small settlement back then.

"_You have gone so far_

_you have gone so far…"_

Another bottle took the second's place. He was starting to feel more relaxed at least. He remembered the Mongols destroyed all of his major cities besides Novgorod and Pskov. The Princes sent tribute to the Mongol's state. Including with invasions by the Swedes and a branch of the Teutonic Knights, Ivan was in deep pain even as the equivalent of the newborn. Even with the great warrior Nevsky on a victory over the Swedes, Ivan remembered one of his first fully formed thoughts.

'Is this what a country must go though to survive?'

"_And tonight_

_its just me and the minibar…"_

Three empty bottles sat, one had been knocked over to the side without his notice. This was just scratching the surface of his life. But for the next century or so, nothing seemed to change. With the Mongol's demands, the people didn't have money for much in the southwest where they were closest to their territory.

They suffered in the cold; Ivan didn't know how to care for them.

At least Tver and Moscow were able to flourish in the northeast. Moscow became so strong, the heart of Ivan really when he took it into consideration. The city was able to drive the Mongols out eventually, though it the cost of it gave Ivan another round of necessary pain. Ivan the Great formally made Russia it's won again, but Ivan the Terrible was soon to fallow.

"_Candles from the walmart that_

_every city has to have…"_

Russia sighed, setting a half filled bottle down, but not letting it go just yet. Ivan the Terrible – or Ivan the Awesome if it was directly translated- was alright at first, then grew to be a darker and crueler boss over the years. To Ivan's own pain and embarrassment, the Terrible lead a horrific campaign against the boyars by means of confiscating their land and exiling and/or executing those who displeased him. He even killed the original heir to his throne. The young country witnessed it himself. The start of the many horrors Ivan would see in person.

Sometimes he remembered the screams even now.

Family killing family fallowed in the next couple generations of Russia's royals thanks to Godunov. All was there for Ivan to see himself. When Godunov died, the false Dmitries fought, both supported by Poland's armies. But at least the Romanov dynasty started and stayed for 304 years.

"_That I bought last night_

_that I bought last night…"_

The Romanovs, Ivan mused as he cracked open another bottle, they were a funny bunch.

Not Full House sitcom "funny", Ivan could only dream of such in his life.

They started out acting like children after Tsar Alexis died. Children that became dangerous when yet another Ivan and young Peter were both up for the throne. Both families soon went to horrible lengths. He remembered standing with young Peter as they watched, horrified, as Peter's supporters and family members were thrown from the top of the Grand Read Stair of the Faceted Palace onto raised spikes of the Guard below. The vodka would never let him forget how twisted Peter the Great was. He was an excellent ruler, but he had his moments on sadistic insanity, he also hated Moscow where the palace was for the rest of his life.

"_I was so excited to_

_do such normal things with you"_

How did all the bottles he brought to the table become empty so fast? He staggered to retrieve more. He slid back down and opened another. He could hear his sister now, "It's not going to be much of a wedding if you die of alcohol poisoning first, big brother". After things he had seen in his life, bosses he knew who lost their minds one way or another, and how many of his people died during wars…the thought of alcohol poisoning didn't bother him at all.

He remembered Peter dealing with one of the rebellions by the Kremlin Guard by means of mass execution. His technical sister Sophia was the one to cause the rebellion, so Peter ordered the bodies of the dead rebels to be hung outside of her window. She was said to have gone mad. Ivan saw it all, so he had no doubt. He remembered that Peter acted perfectly fine the next day, attempting to recreate Russia's image to Western Europe by personally clipping off the beards of his nobles. Maybe it was from Peter that he had learned to act like everything was fine when it obviously wasn't, a tool he still used to unnerve the other countries. Peter had even sentenced his own son to death for treason, but his son died earlier from wounds he suffered from torture. More death and more screams that echoed in Ivan's mind over and over.

"_When you left last night_

_with your toothbrush dry…"_

After Peter, there was a series of rulers that Ivan didn't really get to know before they left. Catherine the Great was the next to really do anything. She was married to Peter the Third, but their marriage was mostly a formality. She was one of the first girls Ivan got to be around and really considered his boss. She was a minx, though. Ivan once wondered if it was possible she was at least partly French, she had a very excessive sexual appetite. Countries never became intimate with their bosses as a rule, thinking of it now Ivan really preferred it that way. In her later years, she contributed to the increasingly distressing level of the peasantry. More people suffering and Ivan just sat there.

"_No such details will spoil my plan_

_that is the kind of girl I am…"_

Ha ha ha, Ivan thought as the female singer "laughed" it. He rolled another empty bottle over the table. Napoleon was next, he didn't seem to like the cold much. None the less France gave him orders to try to invade Ivan's territory. Funny little man accidentally spread his supply lines and forces too thin. None the less, Ivan defended Moscow against Napoleon. In the end Francis and Ivan lost 108,000 men collectively. Neither really had a decided victory. Francis had Moscow for only a small time before his troops left, unable to really deal with Russian life.

"_Can you hear room 318...?_

_man they're really happening..."_

Then more Romanovs. The last of his imperial bosses since the revolution was right around the corner. He remembered Nichloas the 2nd , his wife Alexandra, and their poor son Alexei. Ivan remembered actually being afraid for the little prince. He had seen so many royals either killed or driven to insanity in their youths, he was anxious when it came to Alexei's hemophilia. That was one of the last of his bosses he believed he really cared about. Ivan liked to think he saw a little of himself in the boy. If Alexei lived, the country knew he could do a wonderful job if he tried. The memory made Ivan pull on his scarf, a small habit he had when he actually felt nervous.

"_They're a wild bunch_

_they're a wild bunch…"_

He remembered once when Alexei was kept inside by his fearful mother. He looked bored, looking longingly out the window. Russia soon brought out a chess set, walking over to him and sitting across from him. "I know it must be hard." Ivan remembered saying. "But as long as you need me, I'll stay inside with you." Alexei looked surprised. "Ivan, you can't do that. You can't possibly mean that." Ivan set up the board as he protested. "I do mean it. You are going to take your father's place one day, so I wish to know you now. You are going to lead this country as many great people have done before. But I must ask you something." He said, looking from the king of his little chess army. "Try to rule peacefully, love your family, and care for your people." Alexei smiled, "You're silly, Ivan. I knew I was to do that already." Ivan smiled back and the game began.

"_But if they just knew_

_what my night was coming to_

_god would they vomit and run…"_

Ivan threw the empty bottle in his hand against the wall. Alexei could have been the ruler to beat out Yaroslav, Peter, and all of the leaders before him. But then came Rasputin, and what fallowed him was the revolution. The revolution lead to the deaths of the Romanovs. He could remember where his stood in the snow as he heard the gun shots.

That was one of the last times Ivan remembered crying. In the snow. It was so cold, the hot tears hit the snow and froze. He felt his whole body ache as it shook in small convultions. There were rumors of Alexei's survival, but they were all in vain.

After that, Ivan was just numb for a long time. More people were lost in more wars and tragdies. He started to wonder if he was a contry at all. If he was just a large chunk of land with a name. He started not to care. His knew he could never be the best, so getting contires to be one would him would mean he wouldn't have to be the best.

"_You have gone so far_

_you have gone too far…"_

He swayed in his seat. Too much emotion. Too much vokda. Just…too much. So many empty bottles scattering the table. It was midnight, offically his Indepenance day. He didn't want all of this. He remembered when his real dream was reolized. He was alone in the palaceat some point as saw sunflowers witting in the warm light of the grand ballroom. He was still but a child country at the time. He walked over to the bright flowers. So happy, so viberent. The snow always made things dank and cold. But the flowers were suitably named. He could only think of the warm sun on his skin while looking at them. He knew he needed to end up surrounded by them. He heard his name being called as his chair suddenly tipped back.

"_It's just me and the minibar_

_nobody else_

_and I sing at the top of my lungs…"_

He was unaware of the back of his head hitting the floor hard, or of Lithuania yelling his name as he hurried over to try to wake him up. "IVAN!" He heard it faintly, as if it was a million miles away. All he could feel the warm sunlight, all he could smell was the sweet scent of fresh grass, and all he would see was sunflowers.

"_Happy birthday us_

_happy birthday us"_

WRITERS NOTES: This was written in one night, nonstop. I was inspired by a piece of art by the lovely NiaNook33 on deviantart as can be seen here: .com/art/Hetalia-Haze-127726667

It was amazing. The story just formed as I looked at it over and over. I looked up historical facts. I know it runs on in some places, but I think a lot of people think Russia is crazy for the sake of there being a crazy character. But After looking it up myself, there is so much more to it. The song that is sprinkled through the whole thing is "Me and the Minibar" by the Dresden Dolls. I thought it was suitable for all the drinking.

I really hope all who read it like it!


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